


Stereo Heart

by Quirky_chemist



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkward Stiles, Crushes, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Music, Mutual Pining, One Shot, blink and you miss it angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13661085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quirky_chemist/pseuds/Quirky_chemist
Summary: Stiles wouldn't say that fate was messing with him when he met the hottest dude on the subway after a horrible, no good, very bad day, but he certainly wouldn't dismiss the idea.Or, the one where Stiles uses music to keep his crazy awkward from scaring away the most beautiful man he's ever met on the subway who was totally listening in on his music every day, much to Stiles' surprise.





	Stereo Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I saw an AU post on Tumblr that read: "I'm socially awkward so I'm sitting in a bus/subway with my over-sized earphones and blasting music when you, who is sitting next to me, start bobbing your head and tapping your foot to the rhythm and oh you're tapping to my music and.. Oh God now you caught me staring, but instead of trying to talk to me you just smile sweetly, and I don't think I've ever met a person more beautiful. WHAT dO I DO nOW?"
> 
> I immediately loved the idea and ran with it, this is the outcome. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Note: my best friend was awesome enough to proofread this, any remaining mistakes are purely my own.

Stiles plops into the subway seat, sighing heavily from the strain of the day. Work had been brutal. Retail, Stiles knew, was torture on a good day and Satan’s personal handiwork on every other day. First, he’d slept through his alarm. Which wouldn’t have been so terrible if he were in Beacon Hills. He could have just jumped into the jeep and sped his way to work, traffic laws nonexistent when you know where the deputies tend to be. But nope, here in New York, that was a different story. Public transportation was no one’s friend, and that went double for Stiles. It made him miss home all the more on bad days, and today is definitely on the track of being one.

To top off the fact that he was late and had no hope of making it on time, his apartment’s elevator was apparently stuck between floors two and three, making him jog his uncoordinated and out-of-shape way down six flights of stairs. This in and of itself was a threat to his life as he tripped and tumbled his way down the last five steps, falling through the lobby and slamming his shoulder hard into the mailboxes. The loud crash of his impact had given Mrs. Fairchild a near heart attack, which Stiles had apologized profusely for as he stood, wincing from the tweak in his arm.

Getting chewed out about being tardy was surprisingly the least awful part of his day. Greg had simply warned that Stiles was easy to replace if the need should ever arise. Which Stiles knew was complete BS for two reasons; one, nobody really wanted to work in retail and two, he was abso-freaking-lutely the hardest working one in the shop. Trevor, a snooty little college freshman, could often be found in the backroom on his phone or constantly taking smoking breaks. Stiles swears he only has the job still because of some rule-breaking employee relationship going on with Greg. 

And then there’s Lucy, so sweet and kindhearted, but the poor girl couldn’t stammer through a “Welcome, how are you?” without a furious blush taking over her cheeks. Which is why Stiles has to work the register at all times while also picking up Trevor’s slack. Meaning that when customers weren’t ordering, he had to hurry around to clean up trash and bus tables before the bell over the door rang again.

Adding the cherry on top was Daniel. He was a regular at the coffee shop and seemed to have made it his personal mission to get into Stiles’ pants, even after all the straight-up rejections Stiles has sent his way. At first, Stiles will admit he had been somewhat flattered. He was in a big city and this rather attractive man wanted to get in on all of this. But that feeling hadn’t lasted long after one bad pickup line after another was thrown his way whenever Daniel came in. They were tasteless, and Stiles was over it.

Today, Stiles had been wiping down a table when he heard the door open and the bell chime. When he had looked up from where he was busing a coffee table by the few couches they had near the back of the store, Daniel’s eyes were very clearly raking along his backside slowly before moving up to meet his own. And the man didn’t even have the courtesy to act abashed about being caught!

Sighing, Stiles had dropped the washcloth and headed to the register. “Same as always?”

Daniel had sauntered up with a smarmy grin and nod, Stiles having already written the order on the side of the cup and shoving it down the line to Lucy.

“That’s a nice shirt, Stiles.” Stiles had raised an eyebrow before looking down at his black polo, the employee staple for the coffee shop. When he had glanced back up at Daniel, the man was smirking. “Is there any way I could talk you out of it?”

With an internal groan, Stiles had gratefully accepted the coffee from Lucy, so grateful that she knew to rush the order for this annoyance, and handed it over, holding his hand out expectantly for payment. Danial had tried to make a conversation happen, but Stiles had promptly gotten his change and wished him a farewell, not bothering with a “have a good day” for this one.

Stiles shakes his head from the memory, shifting his large headphones from around his neck to cover his ears. Personally, he had never been one for bulky and off-putting headsets, but he had quickly learned that the noise canceling capabilities were a necessity when riding the subway. The clanking of the tracks and the murmur of people all around him had not only made him claustrophobic but had made him unable to hear his music with his earbuds, even with it all the way up into the danger zone of causing deafness.

Right now, the car is fairly empty, just a few people scattered here and there throughout the benches. But by the time they get out of the city proper and more into the living districts, it will be packed with people heading home from work. Stiles starts up his music and settles back into his seat, getting comfortable for his long commute.

As he does every day, he cranks up his music and turns his face towards the window, blocking out his surroundings. By this time, he’s usually exhausted so he zones out as he watches for his stop. Predictably, the car is soon filling quickly and Stiles senses another commuter taking the seat next to him.

Only a few minutes pass before movement catches Stiles’ attention from the corner of his eye and he unconsciously turns his head slightly to investigate. The man beside him is intently scrolling through his phone, dressed in a nice suit, and…bobbing his head. Initially, Stiles is confused because he doesn’t see any headphones connected to the device in his hand so what could he possibly be-

That’s when it becomes clear. The music flowing through his own headphones matches the beat with which the man was nodding his head to absently, or more specifically, the man can hear his music and was enjoying it as he goes about his commute. Stiles can’t help but watch as the song comes to an end and a new one begins, the alteration in beat reflected in the man’s change from bobbing his head to tapping his foot.

Then Stiles’ world implodes as the man’s eyes shift to the side, catching him in the act of full-on staring. Like, eyes wide, mouth gaping staring. Very unattractive. And oh no, the man is going to try to talk to him, maybe comment on the volume level of his music or address his rude staring. But none of that happens. The man simply offers a soft smile, eyes crinkling as they make direct contact with Stiles’ own for a few heart-stopping moments, before going back to his phone.

Stiles gulps and looks back out the window as a flush creeps up his chest and neck. His companion was, frankly, beautiful. He had a short and soft looking beard that gives him an edgy and stern countenance, but his smile had been so sweet and his green eyes had been lit with kindness. Oh gosh, he was already crushing on the man beside him. Not only does he seem to like Stiles’ music, but he was also considerate enough not to make Stiles turn off said music to awkwardly talk, which he hates to do with strangers on the subway.

But now all he wants to do is talk. To maybe make the man laugh or something so that he could test the waters, see if he had a chance at getting a number or-or something equally as impossible. Stiles chews on the skin around his thumb, now a bit anxious about his seat. The man is way out of his league; there’s a snowball’s chance in hell that he can pull anything remotely cool enough for the man to be interested.

Mind made up at the unfeasibility of the situation, Stiles again sinks back into his chair and watches out the window. Or pretends to, anyway, if anyone asks. He had decided he had no chance with the hot business-dressed man beside him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate him in the reflection of the glass as they both continued to appreciate his music. 

An indiscernible amount of time passes before the train comes to a stop and the man beside him uncrosses his legs and leans forward, preparing to stand as people pass him on their own way off the train. He finally stands and Stiles lets his eyes roam over broad shoulders before the man turns into the aisle to walk off. As Stiles is watching him leave, the man turns to look back at him with another soft smile, causing Stiles to choke on air as he frantically glances away.

When his heart is calm enough, he risks another glance to the man as he’s getting off and onto the platform. His eyes are crinkled in a way that makes Stiles think he’s laughing, which causes his heart to sink. He had been such a spaz; that’s why he never had a chance with Lydia, and it’s why Stiles has no chance now.

Oh well, Stiles sinks back into his seat. It’s not like he’ll ever see the man again.

\------

The universe must love Stiles for all the pranks it pulls at his expense, loves laughing at him whenever it gets the chance. The man sits beside him the next evening, which Stiles pretends to not notice even as his skin prickles with nerves. Again, the man doesn’t force any kind of interaction as he crosses his legs for the ride, pulling out a book this time instead of his phone.

Stiles, for the most part, doesn’t embarrass himself as he observes the man throughout their ride. And like before, his seat mate’s head nods imperceptively along with his music before his stop comes up. He tucks his book into his messenger bag and Stiles can feel the man glance at him, can vaguely see it in the glass as lights reflect off it from both on and off the train, so he boldly turns his head fully to meet his gaze, even as his heart skips a beat at his audacity. 

The man, surprisingly, seems shocked and a light blush flows over his cheeks before he smiles and waves. He stands and then heads off the train at a slightly faster pace than he had the first day. Stiles frowns a bit, but can’t help internally aww-ing at how cute the dude was.

\------

It keeps happening. The man sits next to him without a word every day like clockwork. Except for the one day an elderly woman had boarded on the very next stop after mystery man’s. He was quick to stand and offer his seat to the woman, which made Stiles positively melt.

When the weekend comes, Stiles gushes about his new crush to Scott over gaming. “Dude, he’s just so beautiful. He gave up his seat! And his smile could melt even the Grinch’s heart, I fully believe it!”

Scott laughs at him over his microphone. “If you like him so much, why don’t you just ask him out? Or get his number?”

Stiles hoots when he gets a headshot but then groans when someone comes up and knifes him from behind. “I have no chance with him, Scotty. That’s why I haven’t asked him.” He sighs impatiently before he respawns and he goes hunting down the gamer who dared backstab him. “Besides, even if I wanted to, I’m socially inept and my mouth would run way out of line. I am completely fine with him listening to my music and casually sitting next to me. It almost feels like a weird sort of friendship as it is.”

His friend hums absently, as if he may not be paying attention anymore. Which, frankly, wouldn’t surprise Stiles. Scott is an awesome dude and is his brother, but he tends to zone out during some conversations. “Too bad you couldn’t just ask him out with your music. No talking needed then.”

Stiles’ brain goes through a comedic record scratch, accompanied by tires squealing and a crash. It takes a few moments before his mind cranks back up again and it has him jumping up from his couch, shouting in surprise.

“Dude?! What?!” Stiles doesn’t answer Scott as he does a happy dance in the middle of his apartment. “STILES!”

He falls back into his seat, “Scotty, you are a genius. This’ll have to be our last campaign ‘cause I have a playlist to make.”

Scott is silent on the other end of the mic before he starts to laugh. “Wait, seriously? You’re going to try to woo him while he eavesdrops on your music? I doubt he would even pick up on something so subtle.” Stiles pouts, shooting and taking out the player sneaking up behind Scott, and his friend seems to pick up on his sudden change in mood. “Or maybe he will. Maybe he’ll be so charmed with your unique approach that he won’t even be able to wait before taking you out.”

Stiles shakes his head. “Nah, you’re probably right…”

“Ah, look, buddy, I’m sorry. It could totally work.”

“Dude at your eleven behind the crates. And let’s just drop it, okay?”

Scott is silent while he creeps up to take out the player Stiles had pointed out until he says, “If you’re sure, dude. I’m going to say this then we can go back to owning these guys: It’s always worth a shot, especially if it works out.”

\------

Later in the evening, Stiles is sitting in bed cruising through the Netflix menus before his eyes wander off the browser and towards his iTunes icon on his home screen. His mind flickers to his subway companion and the suggestion Scott had made. Granted, his best friend hadn’t meant it as a literal idea but…

Stiles closes Netflix and opens his music. There was no harm in making a playlist dedicated to telling your crush how you felt. Nuh uh. Besides, if it doesn’t work, no one would be any wiser. So, Stiles settles back into his pillows and starts to look for the perfect songs to give the man just the right hints.

\------

When Monday rolls around Stiles is somewhat satisfied with the playlist he has made. It’s nowhere near perfect, but what can he say? He’s very picky when it comes to stuff like this. And Stiles is feeling pretty good in general since today had gone spectacularly better than last Monday, where the only good thing to happen was the man sitting next to him on the subway.

All throughout work, his mind is filled with possibilities and what ifs. The most likely outcome is that the man won’t even notice his plan because come on, who really would? But then, what if he does? He could laugh right in Stiles’ face. But Stiles thinks he’d be classier than that, at least. That he would let him down easy. Yeah, that was the best imaginable result. He doesn’t even begin to consider it ending any better.

Soon, but not soon enough, he is heading to the subway for his commute home. When the train arrives, he takes his normal seat by the window and hooks his headphones over his ears and to help with his nerves, he plays some songs that pump him up while he waits for the stop that would pick up his current interest. He catches sight of the man on the platform a few minutes later and sits up a bit straighter, nervousness edging more towards full-on anxiety.

It’s possible he won’t even sit next to him today. Just because it happened basically four times – five, before he gave his seat to the elderly lady – it isn’t definitive proof for it occurring again. At least, that’s what he tries to tell himself while his brain supplies his father’s common phrase of “Once is an incident, twice is a coincidence, three times makes a pattern.” That means that five times makes-

The man takes the open seat next to him and Stiles’ heartbeat skyrockets. Taking a deep breath, he looks to the man, studying his profile as he settles in for the ride. Green eyes flick up to meet his while the man rummages in his pocket to pull out his phone, the contact seeming to take the man by surprise as a light blush covers his cheeks and he smiles warmly. Stiles hesitantly smiles back before biting his lip and turning to his phone, flicking through his playlists to the right one.

Stiles waits until the current song finishes, giving the man beside him time to relax and be ready to listen (if he does, anyway). Once “Centuries” comes to a close, Stiles clicks on the first song of the playlist, mainly put there as a test, and then discretely watches for the man’s reaction.

The first few seconds of “Call Me Maybe” play through his headphones and Stiles can’t help but internally thrill when the man’s eyebrows come to meet in a V. The frown gets considerably worse when it appears that the man finally places the song and he turns his head a bit to give Stiles an almost confused but comically disappointed look. Stiles can barely hold back his smile as he pretends to be focused on his phone and he flips to the next song of the playlist.

The man’s expression smooths out somewhat as The Maine’s “Black Butterflies and Déjà Vu” starts to play. Stiles thought it was a relatively good song to start out with, given he couldn’t come up with the guts to say anything to the dude beside him, even though he really wanted to. After the first refrain, the man shifts a bit in his seat and Stiles risks a glance at him again. He isn’t sure if he’s imagining it or not, but it seems that he had leaned just a hair closer to Stiles.

Soon, that song ends and the next begins. “Stereo Hearts” wasn’t a bad choice to add to his playlist, considering he was actually trying to communicate purely through music with the guy beside him. It also fits nicely because the man had been making a habit of listening to Stiles’ music as they companionably rode the subway, which by all means makes Stiles his personal stereo already if he’s going to get technical about it.

The next song is really just a guilty pleasure that Stiles will deny having owned before this very necessary operation in wooing the man next to him. Kelsea Ballerini’s “Dibs” starts to play through his headphones and Stiles can’t hold back his blush as he looks to his seatmate via the window reflection when the singer asks if he has a Friday night free and how she was calling dibs. 

Stiles successfully fights the urge to downright stare at the man beside him, forces himself to stay calm as he takes a glance to his right when the song comes to an end to see just what the man may be thinking; to see if any of this was hitting home or if he was completely oblivious. But Stiles is shocked when the man’s eyes were already firmly placed on him, slightly wide and lips parted in an expression of confusion or surprise, the most adorable bunny teeth becoming visible. Stiles melts all over again but the realization that maybe, just maybe, the man was getting it, really getting it, thrusts his heart into his throat as his eyes drift up to connect with bright green orbs.

The man’s eyes stare into Stiles’ very soul, which would normally set Stiles off into a babbling and flailing mess but has him feeling oddly pinned down in the best way. Stiles barely registers that the train has come to a stop and people are filing off but does shake out of his trance when the man glances down at his phone, the screen having lit up. His brows furrow and he quickly looks back up at Stiles, who has lowered his headphones in a fit of insanity.

The man opens his mouth to quite possibly reject Stiles’ rather flimsy come-on – and Stiles suddenly feels to urge to scream at him to just forget it, it means nothing, let him die from embarrassment in peace – but is cut off by Marvin Gaye’s voice smoothly singing “Let’s Get It On” from the headphones-now-made-speakers around Stiles' neck. They both comically freeze and this time, when the man’s phone lights up, Stiles can also hear it ring as he fumbles to turn off his now rather offending music.

Upon glancing back up, the man is standing, eyes flicking between his phone and Stiles before he swipes at the screen to answer the call. “I-I gotta go.” The man raises his phone up to his ear and moves so quickly off the train that he beats the already closing doors. 

Stiles sits in stunned silence, still sitting sideways in his seat as if he were facing an invisible friend beside him. Then, slowly, he shakes his head and lowers his face into his hands, palms feeling the raging heat in his cheeks. He blew it. It really comes as no shock, but it still stings a bit at how fast the man had fled at the very hint of interacting with Stiles other than using him as a radio on public transportation.

\------

“He ran away.” Scott is silent at Stiles’ abrupt conversation starter and Stiles just lays face down on his comforter, wallowing in self-pity as his friend gathers his thoughts. He had climbed off the subway when it came to his stop and forlornly finished the trek home to his apartment where he promptly flopped onto his bed and dialed Scott.

“It’s his loss, bro.” His friend’s voice floats through his consciousness, pulling him slightly out of his emotional dark pit. “Really, if he wasn’t completely won over by not only your amazing taste in music but also by the sheer amount of work you put into serenading him, then he isn’t worth any more of your time.”

Stiles smiles a bit as Scott continues to heroically wax poetic about all the awesome things that make Stiles a catch. Soon enough, he’s laughing at the out of left field and grasping at straw traits that   
Scott applies to him, one being “the best curly fry eater in the states.” 

“Alright, alright, Scotty,” Stiles says once he has calmed down some, “You’ve done your brotherly duty.”

Stiles can hear the smile in Scott’s response, “Good, because dude, one day you’ll meet the right one. I fully believe in that.”

Sighing, Stiles agrees and the two of them chat about non-relationship things for a while before Scott has to get off to go meet up with Allison for dinner. Once off the phone, Stiles stares up at his ceiling and makes himself a promise. He will allow himself this evening to pout and be angsty, but starting tomorrow, he was going to be just fine. Yeah, just fine.

\------

He’s really not fine when after three days he hasn’t seen hide nor hair of the man he had been interested in (is still interested in, if he is honest, which he’s not). Granted, Stiles had known that the days of sharing companionable silence with the other guy were over, that the man wouldn’t want to sit next to a potentially crazy person. 

Stiles falls heavily into his seat Friday evening after a long day at work, defensively putting on his headphones and crossing his arms, closing himself off from those around him by turning his body to the window like he used to before noticing his seatmate almost two weeks ago. But, for the man to not even take the subway anymore? That seems a bit excessive and Stiles is greatly offended. It’s not like he was stalking him! Quite the opposite, if Stiles thinks about it. The man always came to him, not the other way around.

By now, his anger is mostly abated, left with just the hint of hurt and rejection hanging around in his chest. He’s lost in thought about what he plans to get up to this last weekend before school starts back up after break when a gentle hand is placed on his elbow. It catches him completely off guard and he jerks in his seat, hand to his chest as he turns to see an elderly woman seated next to him. He vaguely remembers that this was the kind woman that the man had offered his seat to when the train was abnormally packed last week.

He stares at her while she just smiles warmly and this goes on for about a minute before her lips split into an even larger grin before pointing to her ears. Stiles frowns but then flushes in embarrassment as he lowers his headphones, shutting off his music with his other hand. “I-I’m sorry.”

The lady shakes her head and settles further into the bench now that she had Stiles’ attention. “Not at all, I apologize for bothering you.” There is a momentary lapse in conversation and Stiles starts to wonder what this is about or if he can go back to brooding when she smiles at him again, nice and grandmotherly. “I apologize if this is none of my business, but I was just wondering where your lovely boyfriend was these last few days.”

Stiles’ eyes widen first in confusion and then realization of who she was referring to. His mouth gapes open unattractively as he tries to find words, but the woman doesn’t really seem to need any from him. “It’s just that, you two are always so cute. My husband and I used to be the same way, not needing to talk and just sharing space.” She smiles sadly at her own memories while Stiles is still spiraling down in a crashing plane of flabbergasted shock.

Then she suddenly turns to him, dainty and wrinkled fingers over her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You didn’t break up, did you? I hate to think I brought up a sensitive subject. It’s just, every time I’ve ridden the train these last two months you’ve always been together.” This statement changes Stiles’ metaphorical plane from nosediving to exploding in midair, not even waiting for the inevitable crash. Two months?! What the f-

A soft hand on his arm has his manic thoughts quieting for just a moment. “Don’t worry, hun. If it’s just a fight, I’m sure he’ll come around soon.” The train comes to a stop and the lady pats his arm once more. “This is my stop today, visiting a friend. You take care.” She smiles and stands, carefully making her way off the train. Stiles just watches her go, his worldview having been suddenly changed and he’s not entirely sure what to do about it.

\------

The week that passes is filled with getting back into the swing of classes after their Thanksgiving break and deadlines, deadlines, deadlines. The semester would be coming to a close in a matter of two weeks and Stiles is juggling essays and working part-time at the coffee shop. Greg had been nice enough to give him plenty of consistent hours the past two weeks, but now he is back on opening and closing, whatever fit more into his busy student schedule, sleep but a distant memory. Then he’ll be taking another week after finals to get in all the hours he could before heading home to Beacon Hills for Christmas.

Stiles would like to be able to say he hasn’t thought about the man on the subway at all, but that would be lying. Especially now that he’s walking onto the train after a full day of work since he has no classes on Fridays, thanks to his superior scheduling capabilities. Once he steps off the platform and onto the train, heading back to his normal seat, he knows something is off. And that feeling proves right when someone is in his seat.

Frowning, he continues to his bench when the mystery interloper looks up, causing Stiles’ breath to catch. Green eyes lock with his own and his crush raises its nasty head all over again. His steps slow as he nears the man, who looks tense and…hopeful? Stiles is at a loss for what to do. He had tried to ask the guy out with his music but the man had run away. Then he had learned that apparently, the dude had been sitting next to him for weeks longer than Stiles had even realized. Caught up in his thoughts, he registers that he is still holding eye contact with the man in his seat and he blushes as he looks away and hurries to pass the bench and takes a seat a row or two back.

His gaze flickers to the man and he notices how the tenseness in his shoulders is gone. The dude must have been worried that Stiles would sit next to him after the epitome of failure from two weeks ago. Stiles swallows hard and sinks into his seat, turning his eyesight away from his heartbreak to bring up his headphones. But his eyes catch a different person this time, the older lady from before. She was on the train a stop or two earlier than she normally is, but her sad expression is definitely meant for him and he bites his lip.

After a few more moments of deep thought, i.e. him arguing with himself like a maniac, he stands and shuffles up to the bench he normally resides in, falling beside the man with a heavy thud. The man turns startled eyes to him and they simply stare at one another for a minute before the dude opens his mouth to say something, most likely “Get lost” but Stiles holds his hand up to silence him.

“Look, I’m sorry for weirding you out the other day. Ah, no! Let me finish.” The man sighs softly from where he had been about to interrupt. “I’m not the best at talking. Actually, no, I take that back. I talk great, I talk a lot. When everyone else runs out of stuff to say, I still have millions of tangents that I can potentially and will eventually start on. But that very special talent always escapes me when I find myself attracted to someone. Take Lydia Martin, she probably thought I was mute until the first time I awkwardly tried to flirt with her. After that, she just accepted me as a loser not worth her time. Or, at least, until Scott and Allison got together. That kind of threw us into friendly social interactions and now we’re pretty good friends-” 

He looks up from his flailing hands to see the man’s eyes widened and overwhelmed and he smiles sheepishly. “A-hah…see what I mean about tangents?” He waves his hand, dismissing the word vomit from before. “Anyway, I just came to apologize for my weirdness and explain it away.” His eyes narrow on the man, making him shrink back just a bit. “But now you have your own explaining to do. I have sources that state you’ve been sitting next to me far longer than I realized. Just how long have you been listening in on my music? You know, I could potentially think you’re a stalker with that information.”

The man looks at a loss, eyes flickering over his shoulder and then back, as if maybe determining whether to run away again or looking for help. But then a red blush touches his cheeks and Stiles softens a bit when it even reaches the tips of his ears. “I-You find me attractive?” They both are equally shocked by the blurted question and Stiles can’t help but throw his head back in loud laughter, no doubt garnering some strange looks from those around them.

When he calms enough to wipe at his teared-up eye, he sees the most adorable pout on the man’s face. “Oh, come on, is that really what you got out of all that?”

The man huffs, crossing his arms. “Of course not. It’s just one of the more important things.” Stiles blushes softly and shifts his gaze away before the man keeps talking. “I… I’ve been sitting next to you whenever I could for the last two months… originally because of a full car but then…it was because I wanted you to notice me.” Stiles’ mouth falls open and the man frowns, seeming to not want to continue. “But you never really did, and I eventually just kind of gave up, but the habit was there and sitting next to you on the busy train was pretty comforting.” He winces slightly. “Sorry, that sounds so pathetic,” his wince turns into a soft and shy smile, “but then you started paying attention and I just thought, finally. Then the last time, you were playing all this music like you were trying to say something, but I thought I might be imagining-”

Stiles shakes his head frantically. “No! I mean, yes! I mean, yeah, yes, I was trying to say something! But,” he points at him accusingly, “you ran away! I was sure I had scared you away or something. That I was going to be slapped with a restraining order if I ever saw you again. And let me tell you, if I get another one of those, my dad will have my head.”

The man raises an eyebrow artfully and Stiles laughs nervously when he realizes what he said. “Ah…yeah…that’s a long story but I promise I’m not psychopathic or a stalker. I just made a few stupid decisions in high school. Like, who doesn’t?” The guy in front of him concedes his point for now with a nod and Stiles won’t be deterred. “So, yeah, you ran. And left me with a strange mix of embarrassment and rejection. For someone who just said they were trying to catch my attention, that seems a bit counterproductive doesn’t it?”

“I had a sudden family emergency, that’s why my phone kept ringing and why I had to rush off the train before my normal stop. That’s also why I wasn’t back until last Monday, I had to travel home.” The man sighs and leans back in his seat, small and dejected. “I had tried to find you all last week, but finally accepted the fact that maybe I wouldn’t see you again.”

Stiles sits, stunned. There was no way this is happening. The guy he is obsessing over has actually been into him for way longer. That fact alone has him feeling giddy and gives him the courage to smile at the man – probably creepily wide but hey, he was ecstatic – and hold out his hand. “I’m Stiles, it’s a pleasure to finally officially meet you.”

The man stares down at his hand before looking back up at him and sharing a broad smile as well. He straightens in his seat and takes his hand; Stiles notes that his grip is large, warm, and strong. “Derek. And really, the pleasure is all mine.”

Stiles just smiles even wider and doesn’t release the man’s – Derek’s – hand, quite content with their newfound contact. “You know, this all could have been avoided if you had just, I dunno, talked to me sooner?”

Derek is right to look chagrinned as he mumbles a response, free hand coming to the back of his neck and rubbing nervously. Stiles tilts his head and tugs on the hand he still has hold of, questioning the man and causing him to sigh and repeat. “I was trying to gather my courage, okay? Though Laura did say I was dicking around and would lose my chance. Which I thought I had…” He looks up at Stiles hopefully and the boy can’t help but tease him as he pulls his hand away.

“Well, yeah. You broke my poor little fragile heart, Derek. I worked hard on that playlist.” He looks over Derek’s shoulder and realizes they have passed the man’s normal stop, but he is loathe to point it out since they are finally talking.

Derek scoffs and brings his attention back. “Oh really? With Carly Rae Jepsen and Marvin Gaye?”

Stiles puts a hand on his headphones that sit around his neck, acting offended. “Hey! They got the message across, didn’t they? Don’t hate on them because others overuse their relatable lyrics.” He huffs and thuds his back against his seat. “Thanks, dude. I really wanted my heart-on-my-sleeve playlist to be made fun of.”

Stiles hears soft laughter and turns to see Derek muffling his chuckles against his fist and he swears he falls a little bit in love with the sound and how it softens his features. The man’s eyes crinkle when he smiles at him. “You’re right. For what you used them for, they are pretty good choices. However,” a mischievous glint flashes through his gaze, “you’ll need to take me on a couple dates before you can use that last one again. I’m not that easy.”

Flush rising in his cheeks, Stiles stares at the man as he feels the train come to a stop. He glances out the window and swallows his nerves. “Um, how about I get started on that then and take you out? Considering you missed your station, I can offer you a few good places in the area.”

Derek turns to look out at the platform as well, looking a bit put off by the fact that he had been oblivious to his surroundings. But when he turns back, it is with a smile as he stands with the others who are also disembarking. “I think that sounds like a plan, Stiles.” The boy gawks up at him in awe – he had said yes! – before standing in a flail of limbs.

“Yes! Yes, let’s go then.” He grabs Derek’s wrist and leads him toward the train’s exit. “There’s this great pizza place around the corner from my apartment. The cheese fries there are the best, they’re curly you know!” Stiles pauses slightly when the elderly lady enters his eyesight and she winks – like literally, she winks like a co-conspirator – at him, causing him to blush but smile thankfully at her. She may not know the true story behind it all, but she had nonetheless helped them work it all out.

Derek slides up close beside him as they climb the stairs out of the subway, arm sliding around the small of his back. “Sounds great. It’s nice that it’s close to your apartment, too…because if this date goes well, we could technically count all the times you’ve serenaded me on the train to make a collective of approximately four dates.”

Stiles stumbles up a step and Derek has to catch him as he laughs evilly at his handiwork. The boy isn’t discouraged as he easily catches his balance once again and walks ten times faster to the restaurant, towing Derek along with him. He has a feeling this date was going to go exceedingly well, and Marvin Gaye may just make another appearance before the night was out.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, that went from an expected 1,500 short fic to somewhat of a monster. Sorry that it got way out of hand! But I hope you all liked it nonetheless.


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